Friends | By : ladyvegeets Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ or the characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know. No profit is being made from this fic. |
Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets
Ch.05 - Emojis
The doorbell rang.
Bulma hurried down to the ground floor to answer it. Sure enough, Vegeta was standing on the front porch, hands shoved in his pockets, an uncomfortable, scowling expression on his face. He looked around inside the house suspiciously. “Your folks aren’t here?”
Bulma titled her head as she thought about her parents’ whereabouts. “Hmm, Dad’s probably in the lab working. Mom is in the glasshouse I think.”
Vegeta didn’t seem reassured. “They don’t care you have a guest?”
Bulma quirked her brow. “Uh, no. Not really. They don’t care about much. It’s fine. C’mon in.”
Vegeta stepped inside reluctantly, looking about as if he expected someone to attack him at any moment. He stopped in the hallway and pulled his bag around in front, digging out the lunch box Bulma had thrust upon him in class. Its contents were empty. “Thanks,” he said gruffly as he handed it over.
Bulma took the container, surprised by the verbal gratitude. “Mmhm,” she replied. “I put as much potato salad in as I could get.”
“I noticed,” Vegeta said, his voice still gruff. He refused to look at her.
Seeing his awkwardness, Bulma changed the subject by pointing up the stairs. “This way.”
She led him upstairs and through a few corridors until she reached her room. A glance back found Vegeta was eyeing her house with cautious interest.
“Here we are!” she announced as they entered her room.
“Your house is huge,” Vegeta remarked as they threw their bags down.
“Mm-hmm,” Bulma replied absentmindedly. She started digging around in one of her draws. “Do you have a favorite color?”
Vegeta hesitated to answer. “Why?”
“Because it might help narrow down the choices,” she replied as she gathered something from the draw. She stood up, a handful of cell phones clutched precariously in her hands.
“Holy shit, how many of those do you have?” Vegeta declared as she dropped the phones on her bed, spreading them out to be easily displayed.
“Oh, these are just the ones that are still active. I have others, but we’d have to get the lines set up.”
Vegeta stared at her as if she’d grown another head. Bulma blinked at him, feeling a blush rising. “What?”
“You weren’t kidding about being rich, were you?”
Bulma leveled Vegeta with a smug look. “Nope. If anything, I downplayed our situation. The government borrows money from us.”
Vegeta raised a hand and rubbed the scar on his cheek from his most recent beating. He looked uncomfortable in the face of her wealth, but he finally drifted over to the bed, taking a look at her phone collection.
Bulma picked up a red cell. “How about this one? It’s the latest model.”
Vegeta glanced at it, then looked back down at the pile. He picked up a blue one. “Is this one functional?”
Bulma took it from him and looked it over. “Yep. And, it matches my hair!” she said, putting it next to her hair and beaming cutely to show off the color.
Vegeta blushed and snatched the phone back from her. “That’s not why I picked it,” he grumbled.
“Yeah yeah.” Bulma leaned over and pointed to a tag on the back of the phone. “That’s the number. So now you can send or receive messages and calls from anyone, without any relatives finding out.”
Vegeta grunted.
Bulma continued. “If anyone does find you with that phone, you could just say you stole it or-”
Vegeta stiffened. “Not likely. Do you have any idea how badly he’d b-” Vegeta cut himself short and looked away, his jaw clenching so tightly Bulma could see a vein throb.
Bulma felt her heart clench in sympathy. “… Well, not stolen then. I just meant you should use whatever excuse you think would be appropriate,” she amended softly. “Maybe you could say a friend left the phone behind and you’re going to return it to them later. Although hopefully you won’t have to explain it to anyone. That’s kind of the point after all, it’s suppose to be a secret phone no one else will know about, except you and me. It’s yours to use freely.”
Vegeta still looked tense, but he wasn’t shooting the free phone down either. Bulma hoped that meant he was going to accept it.
“Let me text you, to see that it’s working,” she suggested when he didn’t say anything. She grabbed her own cell and double-checked the number on Vegeta’s. She punched out a message in lightning speed, It’s me, Bulma, it read, with a bunch of smiley faces, flowers and other cute emojis. A moment later the phone in Vegeta’s hand buzzed.
He looked at the screen. His eyebrow raised, and he cast her an ‘are you kidding me’ look at all the emojis.
Bulma poked her tongue out at him cutely.
He huffed and shoved the phone into his pocket, keeping his hand there. He looked away. “I should head home before I’m any later.”
“Alright,” Bulma agreed reluctantly. His visit had been awfully brief. She pulled out a cord and handed it over. “To charge the phone,” she explained and Vegeta shoved it into his bag. “I’ll text you so we can plan on when to meet for our project.”
“Right,” Vegeta replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder.
Bulma followed him out to the front door, knowing people often got lost in her house, but Vegeta seemed to remember the way. He opened the front door to head out.
“I’ll text you a lot!” Bulma told him in parting.
Vegeta didn’t even bother looking back as he called out. “I’ll turn the damn thing off if you do.”
Bulma grinned. “No you won’t.”
“Try me.”
“Bye!” she called as he reached the street and walked off out of sight. Bulma then ran back up to her room, grabbed her cell, and started texting.
Aren’t you glad to have a friend like me? [smiley face] [winky face].
Bulma bit her lip, waiting to see if Vegeta would actually reply. After a minute, her phone flashed with a message.
Yeah, I’ve always wanted an obnoxious stalker.
Bulma snorted.
You should be so lucky to have a beautiful girl like me give you the time of day, let alone home cooked meals and a cell phone. [Girl face] [meal icon] [phone icon].
Bulma sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.
I’m returning this damn thing to you tomorrow.
Bulma laughed. She punched in a sad-face emoji and sent it.
She waited a minute. Then another. No reply came. Bulma scowled and typed out another message.
Don’t ignore me, grumpy.
A minute later she received a reply. I’m turning this thing off now.
Bulma scoffed. No you won’t. [devil face]
She waited, and waited. When nothing came, she typed another message. I know you’re just pretending to have the phone off, jerk face. She waited some more, but there was still no reply. Bulma scowled and brought the phone to her ear, pressing the dial button next to Vegeta’s phone number.
The call went straight to voice mail.
“Oh my god,” she shrieked, and started furiously typing. I can’t believe you actually turned the phone off, you stupid jerk! Bulma fumed, and then an idea struck her.
Fine,
keep
your
phone
off.
See
if
I
care.
I’ll
just
keep
messaging
you
until
you
turn
it
back
on.
She wrote the message word by word, sending each one as a separate message. She imagined the look of Vegeta’s face when he turned his phone on and received some 20+ new messages, each only a word long. She giggled to herself and put her phone away, giving up on pestering Vegeta. She went about her afternoon as usual.
That evening, Bulma’s phone buzzed. Distracted with other work, it took Bulma a moment to remember that she’d been harassing Vegeta via text. A little nervous and exhilarated, Bulma unlocked her phone to check her messages.
Are you fucking INSANE? Vegeta’s message read.
Bulma smirked, satisfied with Vegeta’s reaction. She was going to send the devil emoji, but then thought better of it. Instead she turned on the front facing camera and pulled on her eye, poking out her tongue to make a face at the camera. She snapped a shot, checked it to make sure she looked good - of course she did, she always looked good - and sent it to Vegeta as a message.
As it sent, Bulma lay down on her bed and waited for Vegeta’s reply. Her stomach knotted nervously.
A minute ticked by. Bulma worried her lip, waiting. Then her phone buzzed and Bulma sucked in a breath when she saw she’d received a picture text back. She opened it.
It was a picture of Vegeta’s hand, flipping her his middle finger.
Bulma felt her mouth curl up in an amused smile. She typed back a reply. That’s no way to respond to a lady.
It didn’t take long for a response. You’re no lady. Bulma pouted but didn’t even have time to reply before another message popped up. Thankfully.
A weird tightness fluttered in her chest. The room suddenly felt too warm for comfort. Bulma hesitated, suddenly at a loss at what to reply. Vegeta saved her the trouble.
I’m going to bed, so stop messaging me.
So early? Bulma typed and added a sad face.
Yes. Stop sending messages now, or I’ll come over there and end your miserable existence while you sleep.
Okay, this is my last message. Goodnight, Vegeta. [winky face] [moon icon] [sleepy face]
The message showed it was sending when Bulma realized she’d sent the wrong emoji. Instead of the sleepy face, she’d sent a heart. Bulma sat bolt up right in bed and desperately started scrabbling with her phone, trying to cancel the message, but it was too late.
Message sent.
Bulma cried out, appalled. Of all the typing errors she could have made, she’d sent Vegeta a goddamn heart emoji?! She flopped back in her bed, groaning, and waited for the fallout. Would he be mad? Disgusted? Insulting? Or would this be the final straw for him to stop talking to her all together? She didn’t know what would be worse, if Vegeta replied, or if he didn’t. Either option was dreadful to think about.
The phone buzzed. Bulma whimpered, hesitating to see what he’d written back. She slowly brought the phone in front of her face and opened the message.
Night, Bulma.
That was it. Bulma stared at the message for a solid minute, trying to process the two word reply. There was no comment about the heart, no insults, no threats, nothing but a simple, blunt, goodnight in the way Vegeta expressed all his thoughts. It was as if he hadn’t paid that heart any attention at all.
Bulma sighed. Vegeta must not have thought anything of the heart, ignoring it as some girly fascination with cute emojis. Decoration. Nothing more.
Bulma continued to stare at his message, frowning.
Night, Bulma.
Why hadn’t he commented on the heart?
Night, Bulma.
Why was she so obsessed that he hadn’t commented about the heart?
Night, Bulma.
Why did she feel more disappointed than relieved?
Night, Bulma.
And why did her heart skip a beat every time she looked over the message, and read her first name in his voice?
“Oh no…” she whispered to herself. She let her hand fall to the side and stared up at the ceiling for a long, long while. “I’m doomed.”
~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~
“What’s wrong, Sweety?” Mrs Briefs asked her daughter the next morning as she busied about the kitchen, getting breakfast ready.
“Hmm?” Bulma replied distractedly, checking her messages. There were no new ones.
“You keep checking your phone,” Mrs. Briefs pointed out.
Bulma blushed and put her phone down. “Oh… I keep thinking it buzzes.”
“Well why not turn the volume on, dear?” Mrs. Briefs suggested sensibly.
Bulma put the phone on the kitchen counter and tried not to stare at it. She’d debated about sending Vegeta a message when she woke up that morning. She was still a little conflicted about her feelings for the surly boy that had suddenly become a prominent figure in her life. Bulma had finally settled on sending him a little sun emoji as way of morning greeting, and had left it at that. Vegeta still hadn’t replied.
Bulma thought she saw her phone flash a notification from the corner of her eye. She unlocked the screen to check. Nothing. “Goddamnit,” Bulma cursed under her breath.
“Now now, that language isn’t becoming,” Mrs. Briefs chided gently. She placed a plate of food in front of Bulma. “Bon appetite!”
Bulma picked up her fork and was about to dig in when the counter vibrated loudly, her phone skidding against the smooth surface. Bulma abandoned her food and snatched up her phone.
Vegeta had replied, sending only a little emoji of a person in motion. Bulma squinted at it, trying to wrack her brain as to what it might mean.
“Mama, what’s this?” she asked, pointing at the emoji, showing her mother the screen.
Mrs. Briefs squinted at the picture. “Hmm… looks like a boy.”
“No, but, what’s he doing?”
“Running I suppose. Eat your breakfast, dear, you don’t want to be late for school,” Mrs. Briefs told her.
Bulma frowned, puzzled. She finally texted Vegeta back a question mark, and started eating her breakfast.
A minute later, she had the fork raised to her mouth when she got a reply. Bulma opened the message and her fork fell out of her hand, her mouth dropping open.
Vegeta had sent a picture of himself. The shot was taken to demonstrate what he’d been doing; it wasn’t centered properly, only displaying his jaw downwards, and it was slightly blurry, having been snapped quickly and sent without concern for quality. Despite it’s flaw, Bulma couldn’t stop staring. Vegeta was wearing workout clothes, black track pants and a white shirt that was drenched in sweat. The top clung to his front, showing a hint of abs beneath the soaked fabric. She could see sweat dripping down his jaw, beading on his throat. Bulma stared, transfixed, her eyes roaming down Vegeta’s sweaty body and back up to linger on his jaw, his split lip barely in frame, his mouth parted as if gasping for air. Her gut clenched tightly, and she felt a heat rise up within her.
“Oh my god… I’m in big trouble…” she groaned.
Mrs. Briefs looked over at her. “Hmm? What’s wrong, Sweety?”
Bulma couldn’t look away from Vegeta’s picture. “A boy.”
“Aren’t they always?”
“Always what?”
“Trouble,” Mrs. Briefs smiled sweetly at her daughter.
Bulma sighed. She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to reply to Vegeta’s picture.
Doesn’t your rib hurt too much to run? She finally typed, sending the message.
Doesn’t matter, he replied.
Bulma rolled her eyes at Vegeta’s tough-guy attitude.
No wonder you’re always so testy. I’d be grumpy too if I was constantly in pain. [angry face] [sad face].
Bulma waited, but Vegeta didn’t seem inclined to reply. Getting an idea, Bulma jumped up and pulled out the lunch box she’d prepared for Vegeta that day. She opened the lid and snapped a photo, and sent it along with a short message.
Guess you’ll have a good appetite for lunch. [Food icon]
She sent the message.
A moment later he replied, Needs more meat.
Bulma scoffed at Vegeta’s audacity. No ‘thank you’, no ‘I don’t need hand outs’. Just an order to add more meat. Bulma grumbled under her breath as she went about searching the refrigerator for more meat to put into Vegeta’s lunch.
She took another photo and sent it.
Acceptable, Vegeta replied a while later.
Bulma had to restrain herself from throwing the lunch box in the trash out of spite. Feeling agitated with his cocksure attitude and playboy photo that she couldn’t erase from her mind, Bulma shoved her phone in her pocket to ignore it, and finished her morning routine to get ready for school.
~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~
“Chi-Chi, I need your advice,” Bulma confided to her friend as they walked to school together. “And you can’t tell a sole, especially none of the guys.”
“Like I tell them anything we talk about,” Chi-Chi smiled at her friend.
Bulma returned the smile. “Haha, well, true. But… I think, I might, kind of have a little crush, maybe, on someone…”
Chi-Chi’s brows rose high. “Wow, Bulma. You work fast.”
“It’s not like I meant for it to happen!” Bulma cried out, feeling horrible. She knew she and Yamcha had only broken up recently, and she felt she was being disloyal somehow, despite how things had ended between them. “Am I just subconsciously looking for a rebound?”
Chi-Chi nodded. “Probably. Or you might be looking for a way to get back at Yamcha, or for a replacement for the hole he left in your social life.”
Bulma’s shoulders sagged. “I guess…” she said, feeling worse. Was that really what she was doing by focusing on Vegeta so much? That wouldn’t be fair to Yamcha or Vegeta if that were the case.
“Is it serious?” Chi-Chi asked. “Has anything happened? Is this guy interested in you?”
Bulma blushed. “Nothing’s happened. I’m not even sure I feel that way, you know. I’m just… confused. And I’m pretty sure he’s not interested in me.”
“Is he single?”
Bulma felt a twist of panic in her stomach. Was Vegeta single? She had no idea. She’d assumed so, but for all she knew Vegeta had some girlfriend somewhere. The thought wasn’t pleasant to her.
Bulma was saved from answering by a friendly voice calling out. “Chi-Chi, Bulma!” Goku came running up to join them.
Bulma flashed Chi-Chi a ‘don’t say anything’ look. Chi-Chi nodded, understanding. Goku caught up to them and flung an arm around Chi-Chi, beaming at them.
“Morning, Son,” Bulma greeted.
“Morning, Bulma. What’s new?” Goku grinned. He always seemed to be in a good mood. He was the polar opposite to Vegeta.
“Not much,” Bulma shrugged. “Do you guys have practice tonight?”
Goku nodded. “Yep, sure do. Are you going to come by?”
“Maybe,” Bulma replied noncommittally.
“You should,” Goku encouraged. “It’s not the same without everyone all together. And we have a new member now too.”
“Right, I heard,” Bulma said, trying to sound neutral. “How has practice been?”
Goku talked about fighting and other things for the rest of their walk to school.
Later in the day as the lunch bell rang, Bulma made her excuses to secretly go share lunch with Vegeta on the roof. He was playing his game boy as usual. He looked up at her as she approached.
“Your delivery,” Bulma announced, handing over the lunchbox.
Vegeta put his game aside and accepted the food. He grunted something and started eating before Bulma had even sat down next to him.
“You’re welcome,” she said dryly.
Vegeta paused, glancing at her, then looked away. “… Thanks.” He went back to shoveling in food.
Bulma was speechless. She hadn’t expected him to actually thank her. Perhaps he wasn’t such a lost cause after all.
“So… do you run every morning?” Bulma asked conversationally.
Vegeta shrugged, not pausing to answer.
Bulma rested her chin in her hand, watching him eat, realizing it was pointless to converse when he was more invested in the meal than small talk.
Vegeta glanced at her as she ate. He scowled at her.
She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “What?”
“You’re staring.”
Bulma sat upright and turned away, knowing he was right. “Sorry.” Idiot, she chastised herself. She leaned back against the wall and stared up at the blue sky. She watched a few scant clouds drift by before she looked down to dig out her own lunch from her bag.
“So, we never actually planned a time to meet for our class project,” she pointed out as she ate some rolled sushi. “Because SOMEONE turned their phone off.”
Vegeta snorted. “After practice.”
Bulma looked at him. “What?”
Vegeta’s brow furrowed. “Nights after practice, I can come over to your place.” He cast her an uncertain look. “Does that work for you?”
Bulma smiled at him. “Mm-hm, sure does.”
Vegeta put some fried egg into his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully as he eyed her sushi.
Bulma raised a brow. “Want some?” she offered, holding up a slice of sushi roll.
Vegeta paused his eating. “What is it?”
“Makizushi.”
“Mucky-what?”
Bulma laughed. Vegeta scowled at her.
“Just try it,” she insisted, and plopped the sushi into his lunchbox.
“Don’t put it there, I didn’t say I wanted it!” he snapped at her.
“Just eat the damn thing and be grateful, will you?”
They spent the rest of lunch half arguing as they ate. Lunch passed quickly and soon it was time for them to head to their classes.
“See you at practice then,” Bulma said as she packed her bag.
“You’re attending?” Vegeta asked, surprised.
Bulma nodded. “I usually do, all my friends are there.” She paused, looking at him. Feeling brave, she added, “Especially now.”
Vegeta frowned but didn’t make any rude retorts. Bulma took that as a good sign and grinned, nudging him.
“See, I’m growing on you, aren’t I?”
“Like cancer.”
~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~
AN:
Hahahahaha Vegeta, you crack me up XD
Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I love getting them, they totally make my day.
Next chapter up very soon!
Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own DBZ characters - they belong to Akira Toriyama, Funimation and Toei Animation as far as I know.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo